Pop-up passage

We are underway northbound in the North Atlantic Ocean, on an unplanned and somewhat unexpected passage. We should end up at one end or the other of Edisto Island at the end of the day, which will put us about a day from Charleston.

Monday morning we were up early, weighed anchor, and pulled up to the fuel dock at Port Consolidated at 7:45, fifteen minutes before they open. I did not want to take the chance that some sportfisher would jump in ahead of us. As it turned out, a shrimper wanting 30,000 gallons had an appointment for that spot at opening time; they are required to make advance arrangements because vessels holding more than 10,0000 gallons have a phalanx of extra regulations.

Spectacular sunset over Bells River from our anchorage in Fernandina Beach.

We had been prepared to cast off and move if need be when the attendant arrived, but he decided to go ahead and fuel us to get us out of the way altogether before the shrimper arrived. We bunkered an even 1,000 gallons and were off the dock at 8:30; their pump can deliver 50 gallons per minute. With the tax waiver and the cash discount we paid $4.48 per gallon, the lowest price on the east coast.

We whizzed out the St. Marys inlet with a knot behind us into calm seas. We had a comfortable passage to St. Simons, came in with the current again behind us, and were anchored in a familiar spot in the Frederica River off Lanier Island (map) by 3pm. We made arrangements with our friend John to meet us after dinner over at Coastal Kitchen for a beer; we tied the dinghy up at the marina just as they were closing at 5 and had a nice dinner. It was great catching up with John for 45 minutes before he needed to run off to a different dinner engagement.

Louise brought me these gifts from our niece, whom I am marrying next month, which I was not to open until I had her on the phone. I think the bobble-head is a remarkable likeness, and the personalized "Officiant" notebook is for my notes during the ceremony.

On our way to dinner we spotted brand new signs on the Gascoigne Park courtesy dock saying "No Mooring." Previously we could tie the dinghy up here for up to two hours, and I've used the dock many times to go for a walk ashore, or to ride the e-bike down to the grocery store for provisions (it's a nice walk but hard to make the trip in less than two hours). We were very disappointed to see this. On top of that, the adjacent county-owned, privately-managed marina is closed right now for dock replacement.

I posted my findings on a couple of online forums and was scolded by someone who called the parks department and was told that the signs were old and there was a two hour limit. Which made no sense since I could tell the signs were new since our last visit in December. It turns out that the county commissioners voted to close the dock after some inconsiderate boaters abused the privilege, had Public Works put up the signs, but neglected to inform the Parks department. We're hoping an outcry from boaters will have them rethink the policy.

Brand new No Mooring signs on the dinghy dock. Photo: John Samford

Tuesday morning we awoke to heavy winds and occasional light rain. Perfect conditions for us to move along, as these conditions keep many boaters off the waterway. We had to wait to 11:30 to weigh anchor so as not to arrive at the very shallow section through Little Mud River with insufficient tide.

Evidently a 62' Nordhavn had done just that, and as we approached Altamaha Sound we could see him circling. I called on the radio and offered to lead them through, but at that point we were doing 3.5 knots against the current and it was an hour before we caught up to them. We arrived with plenty of tide for us and just enough for them, and I think they were grateful to follow an experienced boat through the troublesome section.

After following us through the skinny stuff the Nordy overtook us. We only saw one other boat all day.

Once we crossed Doboy Sound we had a fair tide, and we opted to run all the way to dinner time, dropping the hook at 5pm in a new spot for us, on the Crescent River (map). It was still just as windy when we anchored as when we had weighed. We had a nice dinner on board.

Yesterday our plan had been to run up the inside, make Hell Gate with plenty of tide, and drop the hook someplace just shy of Savannah. I even reached out to friends in Hilton Head, with the expectation we'd be there for dinner this evening. Before we even made it to lunch time, Louise discovered that we would have a one-day window today to run up the outside.

Yesterday I disassembled the old fuel transfer check valve so I could recycle the body, a huge hunk of brass. Looking carefully at this poppet it's clear why the valve was leaking.

I started figuring routes, making plans to go out Ossabaw Sound this morning just before Hell Gate and run all the way to North Edisto. But the longer I looked at the chart, the more I realized that we could save a lot of twisting, turning ICW if we went out St. Catherines Sound instead, with the option to come back in at the South Edisto if we could not make the North Edisto in the daylight. I waved off with our Hilton Head friends, who are boaters themselves and understand that windows are windows.

I picked an anchorage in Wahlburg Creek that would be the closest spot to the St. Catherines inlet; getting to the anchorage usually involves backtracking to the creek from the sound after passing the shoal that blocks the direct entrance. But a bit more investigation revealed that, with careful navigation, we could enter the other end of the creek right off the ICW and avoid the backtracking altogether, so that's what we did.

St. Catherines buoy R-4 has been missing for a while. We found it aground off Wahlburg Creek, miles from its station.

We had the hook down in a comfortable spot in the creek (map) by 12:15, on a day we had figured to be underway until nearly dinner time. The sun broke through in the afternoon, topping up the batteries, and I grilled a steak for dinner without ever starting the generator. I used the afternoon to troubleshoot the new start battery charge system, which has already quit working. It turns out the contactor is bad.

This morning, high tide at the inlet was 6:30 but slack was not until 8. We split the difference, departing just after sunup at 6:40, pushing against the flood, and arriving at the bar at 7:45 with six feet of tide. We found the north gap lower than charted at about 9' MLLW, and were happy to have the tide to give us nine feet under the keel in the two-foot swell. The seas have laid down some while we've been out here and we are having a comfortable ride.

No one out here but us and the shrimpers.

Last night's showers were colder than expected, and this morning we discovered the new water heater loop was not heating. That turned out to be due to no engine coolant flow through the heat exchanger, so this old problem, supposedly solved by using a heat exchanger lower than the engine, is back. I spent a half hour in the hot engine room with a long sleeve shirt and rubber gloves getting the coolant moving again with a drill pump. We also rinsed out our waste tanks with seawater while we are outside the three-mile limit.

The plotter says 6:30 to the South Edisto, and it would be an hour and a half or so more to the North Edisto. Sunset is 8:30 and I would want to be well over the bar by then. We're missing a lot of shallow stuff out here, but if we come in at the south there is still more ahead. In either case, though, we should be in Charleston tomorrow.